


But What is a Chair With Only Two Legs?

by gorgeousdora



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Chanyeol has a crisis, Fluff, M/M, due to an inanimate object
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5623567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeousdora/pseuds/gorgeousdora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A two-legged chair throws Chanyeol into a crisis. Baekhyun is good at crises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But What is a Chair With Only Two Legs?

**Author's Note:**

> So this was going to be a drabble... but then it hit 1000 words and I wasn't even nearly finished so it's well and truly out of drabble territory now. Oh well, I'm happy with a one shot :)

Baekhyun carefully nudges open the door to the bedroom, a mug of steaming tea in his right hand and a plate of chocolate caramel cookies in the other. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room and he briefly considers pulling aside the curtains so that the only source of light won’t be the dull glow of Chanyeol’s phone, clutched tightly in his hand as he glares at the screen, but he decides to allow the latter to hibernate in his self-made cave for a while longer.

“I made tea.” Baekhyun says, keeping his tone light and cheerful. Chanyeol’s curled up figure doesn’t move from its place in the middle of the bed as he replies in a monotone,

“I don’t want tea.”

Baekhyun’s smile only falters for a millisecond before he tries again with his second incentive.

“I made chocolate caramel cookies?” They both know that’s a lie. “Okay, I didn’t make them, I grabbed them out of the cookie jar, but they’re the ones that go all gooey when you heat them up and I’ve heated them up so I made them better.”

“… I don’t want delicious, gooey chocolate caramel cookies.” Baekhyun snorts at Chanyeol’s unconvincing defiance.

“Sure you don’t.” Chanyeol stays silent. “Do you want to talk about it?”

For a moment there’s no response, then Chanyeol slowly turns to face the edge of the bed, scooting over to place his phone down on the bedside table. Baekhyun takes this as an invitation and makes his way over to the bed, placing the tea and cookies alongside the phone before sitting in the space between Chanyeol’s chest and bent legs. It never ceases to amaze him how perfectly all of his angles fit between every crevice of Chanyeol’s body.

Chanyeol had come home from a trip to the shops with a far off expression on his face and a rarely seen crease between his eyebrows. He’d dumped the bags full of groceries on the counter and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving Baekhyun too startled by this sudden change in temperament to do much more than watch him with wide eyes as he gloomily shut the door behind him.

For a few minutes, Baekhyun had just remained in his spot at the kitchen table, not noticing his square framed glasses slipping down his nose as he seemed unable to tear his gaze from the closed bedroom door. Then he’d jumped right into his If The Boyfriend Is Ever Acting Funny Or Seems A Bit Off plan, boiling the kettle and grabbing some of Chanyeol’s favourite cookies to warm up in the microwave.

Now, Baekhyun starts to softly card his fingers through Chanyeol’s fluffy, light grey hair, smiling a little as Chanyeol sulkily reaches out to grab a cookie. For a time he just lets Chanyeol nibble on the cookie in silence, happy to soothe him whilst the younger organises his thoughts.

Eventually, Chanyeol sighs and closes his eyes, lifting his head a little to press into Baekhyun’s light touch.

“I was walking home,” he starts lowly, deep voice giving in to the weariness he usually had no trouble hiding behind bright smiles and loud laughs. “I was walking home and I passed a plastic chair that had been dumped on the pavement. The two front legs had been snapped off or something and it was sort of just tilting forward sadly.”

Baekhyun had paused his ministrations over Chanyeol’s hair when he’d started telling his story, but as the tale comes to a lull he resumes, encouraging Chanyeol to continue. After another quiet moment, Chanyeol opens his eyes to look up at Baekhyun, concern splayed across his features.

“I know it’s just a chair, Baek, but it looked so sad and helpless.”

Baekhyun can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him at the story of the two legged chair that has thrown Chanyeol into a crisis, but the frown that brings back the downward curve of Chanyeol’s lips and his drawn together eyebrows _(so wrong… that expression is so wrong for Chanyeol)_ quickly shuts him up.

He softens his own expression, guilt quickly spreading through him at having laughed at Chanyeol’s genuine distress. He’s not sure if he should speak or not to try and reassure Chanyeol that he’s listening, seriously this time, so he settles on gently nudging Chanyeol, encouraging him to shuffle back enough so he can lay opposite him on top the covers.

“What’s made you feel so strongly about a two legged chair, Yeollie?” Baekhyun asks as he tucks his legs up to tangle them between Chanyeol’s own long limbs. As Chanyeol sighs quietly, Baekhyun takes a moment to really look at him. It hits him just how tired Chanyeol looks without a grin spread across his face. No… defeated would be a more fitting description. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than Baekhyun had noticed in a while, and the usual unrelenting positivity that seems to radiate from Chanyeol’s very being feels somewhat muted, like it’s been taking him twice as much effort to keep it up and he’s very nearly drained.

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol finally replies softly, pulling at a loose cotton thread at the edge of the pillow, “I think it’s just that… It was so easy for its entire purpose to be stripped away, you know? It would have been working perfectly fine, doing what it was supposed to and then something happened and it was just abandoned like that. It isn’t good for anything now. It’s just another piece of worthless plastic.”

Baekhyun looks carefully at Chanyeol, trying to read between the lines.

“Chanyeol,” he begins carefully, not wanting to sound sceptical or mocking, “I think you might be projecting.”

“What?”

“Projecting. The unconscious ascription of a personal thought, feeling, or impulse, especially one considered undesirable, to somebody else. Or in this case, something else.”

“Don’t shrink me, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol scoffs.

“I’m not, I promise, I just think you have an unusual amount of feelings about an inanimate object, that’s all.”

Chanyeol meets Baekhyun’s gaze and Baekhyun can’t help but feel that he’s searching him desperately for an answer to a question he doesn’t want to ask out loud. Baekhyun snakes a hand around Chanyeol’s neck and threads his fingers into his hair, gently pulling him closer.

“Chanyeol.” He whispers, searching the younger’s own eyes in turn for the question he can tell is on the tip of his tongue, “If I could read your mind to save you from having to speak, I would. I want to offer advice, or cuddle your problems away, or poke you and tell you that you’re being silly, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on inside that brain of yours.”

Chanyeol sniffs a little, voice cracking as he finally speaks up.

“What am I doing, Baek?” It takes Baekhyun a moment to register the question.

“What do you-“

“I mean what am I going to do? You’re going to graduate with your psychology major and you’re going to become a brilliant psychologist and help loads of people and you’re going to absolutely love your job. But me? I graduated two years ago and it didn’t take me long to realise that there’s not a lot of people jumping to take a chance on a budding music producer,” Chanyeol barks a humourless laugh, “What am I doing? I keep trying to do what I want, what I have literally always wanted to do and I can’t get a break. I have music in my head all the time and I put it out there and no one cares. So I go and work another shift at the supermarket because I’ve got to contribute money for us to live off somehow and that’s how it seems it’s going to be for the rest of my life. And that’s just fucking great, because without music I’m useless. I’m going to be checking out fucking groceries until the day I die and when people ask you what your boyfriend does, you won’t be able to tell them that he makes music, that he’s achieved what he wanted more than anything. No, you’ll have to tell them that he’s a lowlife who never managed to accomplish anything worthwhile except restocking shelves and cleaning up aisle spills.”

By the time he’s finished, Chanyeol has tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and sliding down his cheeks. Baekhyun can tell he’s still holding back, so he pulls Chanyeol’s head into his neck, letting the giant press their bodies together as close as he possibly can while Baekhyun holds him tight.

Baekhyun silently massages circles into Chanyeol’s back, picking up a slow, steady rhythm whilst the steady flow of tears leaves salty tracks as they trickle down his neck.

When Chanyeol’s breaths have evened out and he’s untucked his face from Baekhyun’s neck to rest instead in the soft spot just below his shoulder, Baekhyun tightens his hold around him, securing Chanyeol’s place by his side.

Chanyeol is close to sleep by the time Baekhyun starts to speak.

“Next year, I’m going to finish my course and yes, I’ll be a fully qualified psychologist and hopefully will be able to start helping people without much delay; I am beyond excited for that. And you, Chanyeol, will still be making music. You’ll have taken every opportunity that comes your way to break into the industry and one day, however far in the future that may be, you’ll be there. You’ll be doing what you love _because_ it’s what you love and because you chase it with a passion that inspires me daily to achieve my own goals. And until then and forever after, when people ask me what my boyfriend does, I’ll tell them that he’s the light of my life and that he makes me smile and laugh, and that he makes me feel whole like no one else ever will.”

He places his hands on either side of Chanyeol’s face and pulls him towards him for a chaste kiss, which Baekhyun hopes is enough to convey the strength of his love and affection for Chanyeol, to show him that he’s right here, right now, and that he’ll be here for him for a long time yet.

“I know you’re going to do it, Yeollie, and I’ll be right next to you every step of the way. You are anything but a lowlife and you are going to achieve so many wonderful things in your life, and I am already beyond proud of you.”

Chanyeol nods sleepily, a small, grateful smile curving his mouth back into its natural shape and Baekhyun kisses him again, relieved to see a portion of Chanyeol’s usual self returning.

“I love you so much. You know that?” Chanyeol murmurs, voice husky from the crying and exhaustion.

“I know.” Baekhyun smiles down at his not-so-little ray of sunshine curled up nearly on top of him, “I love you too.”


End file.
